


My Dearest James

by blissfullylostinarabbithole



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-01-20 03:41:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12424317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blissfullylostinarabbithole/pseuds/blissfullylostinarabbithole
Summary: No one ever thinks a child could be happy in an orphanage. The connection between you and Bucky had been instant, finding peace and happiness in each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have other series to work on, but this one won’t let me concentrate on them. This one will be maybe 5 parts or so? Also, I just can’t seem to leave little Bucky well enough alone. 
> 
> This one’s gonna have pockets of sad, mkay? Mentions of death. Depression.

After making sure everything was ready for the day’s breakfast, Father Coulson followed Sister Maria out to the dormitories. They knocked on every door, making sure those inside heard and were getting out of bed. After reaching the last set of doors, Sister Maria turned to him.

“It stormed last night,” she stated. “Will you go, or shall I?”

“I’ll go, Sister. You go ahead and join the others for breakfast,” he gave her a small smile. “We’ll be in shortly.”

She nodded and headed back to the dining area, leaving him to fetch you and your companion.

You didn’t always hate storms. In fact, you used to love them. You would help your dad bake cookies, while your mom would read to you. You loved storms, until you lost both your parents in one in an accident. Since then, they terrified you. It was part of the reason Father Coulson and Sister Maria fought to allow you to continue this habit of yours, despite others’ concerns.

Another reason they allowed it, was because of James Barnes. The first two years of James’ residence at the Winchester Children’s Home, he kept to himself; he never played with the other children, he’d hardly eat, and he never said a word. He would do his schoolwork and his chores without complaint, but other than that, he kept to his books and his drawings.

Everything changed when you came to stay at Winchester’s. When you arrived, tiny and scared, cheeks stained with tears and clutching a stuffed tiger, James immediately stuck to you, determined to make your transition easier. The nuns were a little surprised to find he was finally spending time with someone, but it was nothing compared to what they witnessed at dinner a few days after your arrival.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

_“C’mon, Doll, you gotta eat. Like this.” He demonstrated by taking a large mouthful of his own food, chewing and swallowing it down with fervor. “Now you, ok?” He took your fork and scooped some mashed potatoes, and brought it to your lips. To his delight, you followed his example and ended up eating nearly everything on your plate, just as he did._

_Though the boys and girls were supposed to be separated during meals, no one had the heart to pull either of you away. No one knew why James had taken such a liking to you. Another one of the nuns wondered if it might have been that you were only three; the same age he was when he arrived. Children of all ages came and went, but he didn’t bother with any of them, so that theory was a bust._

_The only times you and James were apart were during classes, mass, and at night (mostly). Every other time, he was right by your side. Though he was only five, he was already learning how to read, and he would practice by trying to teach you, as well. Whenever one of the other kids would pick on you, he would defend you no matter how old the other kid was._

_“Hey crybaby!” a larger boy taunted. “Hiding behind your boyfriend?”_

_“Leave her alone, Brock!” James shouted as he led you away. “Don’t listen to him, Doll,” he’d said, trying to drown out the other child’s teasing. “you’re not a crybaby.”_

_He led you to the old tree, the one with the swing no one liked, and sat you down on it, placing your tiger and his own stuffed wolf at the base before taking off saying he’d be right back. Returning with some flowers he’d picked from the nearby field, he gave them to you and posed you before settling on the ground to begin to draw. He was almost always drawing you, and he even gave you some of the drawings sometimes, making the girls in your dorm tease you over the ‘squiggles’. You didn’t care, you thought they were beautiful. You kept every one in a folder in your chest, along with some actual photos of the two of you Sister Maria took._

_You did your best not to move so as not to ruin his work, but a question had been nagging at you and you really wanted an answer._

_“James?”_

_“Yes?”_

_“What’s a boyfriend?” you asked, staying as still as you could._

_James put his drawing pad down and looked contemplative for a moment. After a while, he nodded to himself, coming up with a satisfactory reply._

_“A boyfriend is someone who takes care of you. He makes you happy and makes sure you eat. He holds your hand and gives you flowers and kisses, and scares monsters away and gives you candy. When you grow up, he marries you and buys you ice cream whenever you want, and you live in a big house with ten puppies and dance all night because no can tell you what to do anymore. That’s a boyfriend,” he ended with a wide grin, picking his pad up to continue his drawing._

_“Oh,” you bashfully looked down at the ground. “Is Brock right? Are you my boyfriend?”_

_James froze, cheeks turning bright red. “Um… I think so?” He looked up at you, gauging your reaction. “Do you want me to be?”_

_Nodding, you returned the question. “Do you want to be?”_

_“Yes.” He placed his pad on the ground again and made his way to the swing, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek._

_“James!” you giggled, hiding your face in embarrassment._

_He thought it was the cutest thing in the world, and his drawing was forgotten for the time being. “Hold on tight, Y/N.” He stepped behind you and began to push you on the swing. After a while, he wanted to finish his drawing. Before he left your side, you leaned into him and kissed him softly on the lips, making him smile and turn red again._

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Father Coulson made his way to the activity room, finding you exactly where he knew he would; sleeping in a big chair, curled into James, who’d comforted you through the storm.

When they first found you that way, they’d let it slide given your situation. After a year passed, some concerns were raised, and many wanted to put an end to it, nipping it in the bud. Thankfully the Monsignor, Father Fury, was an old friend of Coulson’s from the seminary. He and Sister Maria explained the situation, and Fury allowed it to continue, knowing the time to worry about teenage hormones was still a long way off.

Four years after you came to Winchester’s, it still broke Coulson’s heart to find you that way. He gently shook James awake, careful not to wake you in the process.

“How is she?” he whispered when he finally opened his eyes.

“A lot better,” he replied just as quietly. “She’s able to sleep through them most of the time.”

“Good,” Coulson smiled down at your still sleeping form. “Breakfast is ready.”

James nodded and watched him leave the way he came. When he was gone, he buried his nose in your hair, nuzzling and whispering in your ear.

“Y/N, Doll? It’s time to get up.” No matter how many storms he helped you through, he never got tired of waking up beside you. He watched your eyes flutter open as you stretched, feeling his chest fill with all the love it could hold. “Morning.”

“Morning, James,” you cooed. “Did I let you sleep?”

“Yes. You did good,” he praised. “Now c’mon, we gotta get dressed and go to breakfast.”

You took your tiger and his wolf and walked hand in hand toward your dormitories, sharing an innocent kiss before parting ways for the few minutes it would take to wash up and dress. As usual, James was already outside your door when you stepped out, waiting to escort you to the dining hall.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to James’ teachings, you’re a little further along than your peers, getting some attention other children would love to have.

On the bus, Sister Maria was in awe at how much the two of you talked. You spent every moment you could together in the last four years, but still found something to chatter about day after day. She wasn’t sure why it still surprised her to see how close you’d become, but it did.

When you reached your destination, a small lake at the edge of the forest, she instructed the children to be careful and not stray should you get lost or miss the call for lunch. Watching you and James leave, hand in hand, she knew not to worry when you slipped behind the tree line. Every field trip, it was always the same: you’d disappear for a couple of hours, and appear with a new drawing, ready to play the rest of the day away.

James found a good spot right away, with plenty of moss and patches of sunlight filtering through the trees. After getting you settled, he sat against a tree and began to take out his sketchbook.

“I’ll try to be quick,” he assured, ruffling through his bag for his pencils.

“It’s ok, I’m comfy.”

“You’re the best, you know that?” he beamed, hand already moving at a quick pace. “What do you wanna do after?”

“Ummm, can we go swimming?” you replied, keeping perfectly still.

He paused and looked up at you. He thought you looked like a fairy the way the sunlight speckled your skin. Just when he thought he couldn’t possibly find you more beautiful, you surprised him. “Oh, Doll…we can do whatever you want.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Father Coulson looked at the couple opposite his desk in complete shock. What should have been a joyous occasion, was quickly becoming a sorrowful one.

“Are you certain?” he asked hoarsely. “Y/N is a very special girl, but she does have very specific emotional needs.”

“We know, Father. We’ve read her files and it’s dreadful, but we know she’s right for us,” Pepper Potts-Stark assured him. “We’ve discussed it, and we’re sure we want her.”

“And you, Mr. Stark?” Coulson turned his attention to Tony, praying he’d have doubts about you. “Are you in agreement with your wife?”

“Absolutely. Only seven years old and she’s reading Tolkien? A girl like that needs to be exposed to the world. It’d be a shame for her to stay until she ages out and land herself at a dead-end job simply because of a lack of opportunity.”

Coulson looked out the window to where you and James were playing, knowing it was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do.

“I understand it’s not as common for older children to get adopted,” Pepper said, getting Coulson’s attention. “but an older child is best for our situation, and we’ve just fallen in love with her.” Tony took her hand and gave it a squeeze, gazing lovingly into his wife’s eyes.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he leaned against the wall across Coulson’s office. You hadn’t been in any fights, and you always did your chores and homework, so he couldn’t think of anything you could be in trouble for.

“JAMES!” he heard you shriek before running out the door.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed by your panicked state. You threw your arms around him and clung tightly, weeping into his neck. “Y/N, what happened?!”

“She’s been adopted,” Father Coulson answered for you, not looking the least bit pleased.

James felt his chest tighten and his throat close, eyes watering as you began to cry harder at hearing the word again. “Shhh,” he soothed. “It’s alright. Everything’s gonna be fine,” he blubbered out, barely able to contain his own sobs. He held you tighter, afraid you were going to be ripped from his arms at that moment.

When trying to convince the Starks to look at other children failed, Coulson had tried desperately to get them to consider James as well, but they were adamant they were only looking to add one to their family. Looking at the two of you, he knew it was going to be a difficult road; one that you’d each have to travel alone.

For the next couple of days, you and James were excused from your classes and your chores, and you were allowed to sleep together in the common room. Those days were full of tears, declarations of love, and promises that you’d meet again.

The day of your departure came and you and James sat on your bed, packing the last of your things in a backpack your new parents gave Coulson for you. You looked over every drawing, every photo, every memory you shared the past four years, neither able to believe it was coming to an end.

“I’ll always love you, you know that, right?” you sniffed, voice hoarse from crying.

He nodded, tears staining his shirt. “And you’ll always be my Doll.” He reached behind him, taking his stuffed wolf and placing it in your hands. “Take Winter. He’ll keep you safe.”

You inhaled his scent, praying it lasted until you were reunited. Taking your tiger from beside your pillow, you gave it to him. He tried to refuse, but you wouldn’t let him.

“It’s what I love most, besides you. He belongs with you,” you insisted.

“I’ll take good care of him,” he promised. “Write me?”

After agreeing, you both leaned in for the last kiss you’d share until you could meet again, pulling apart just before approaching footsteps revealed a despondent looking Sister Maria.

“I’m afraid it’s time,” she lamented, eyes tearing up again when she saw his wolf in your arms.

He took your hand and led you out, his grip tightening the closer you got to the front door. When he finally had to let you go, he didn’t process anything as he watched you be led away toward your new family. He didn’t register Father Coulson kneeling beside him to comfort him, or the look your ‘mom and dad’ shared when they saw him, not even the sympathetic look Brock wore as his eyes flickered between you.

Coulson remained by his side as he stayed rooted to the spot. When mealtime came around, he asked if he was hungry, only to be met with silence. Night fell, and when he told him it was time for bed, he followed without issue.

Two months passed before James got word from you. Coulson called him into his office, where he handed him a small stack of letters. If either of them thought things couldn’t get worse, they were wrong; every letter was sent without a return address. He tore open the first one and began to read.

**_‘My Dearest James,_ **

**_I don’t know how long it will take for you to get this. I’m the jungle in Peru. They take pictures and write for a magazine so I don’t know how you will be able to write back if they never stay in one place for long. They are nice but I want to be with you. I miss you.’_ **

He sniffled, carefully folding and placing the letter back in the envelope.

“Maybe somewhere in there she’ll tell you how you can contact her,” Coulson offered. “Please don’t lose heart, James.”

“Bucky,” he croaked.

“What was that?” Coulson leaned closer, straining to hear.

“Don’t call me James,” he asserted, voice rough from lack of use. “It’s Bucky.”

It was the only time he spoke in nearly a year. During that time, he read and reread all your letters, hoping that your next one would have a solution. He hated not being able to tell you how much he missed you back, but he was glad of your repeated promises that you’d continue to write him regardless.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, welcome,” Coulson began, smiling at the young couple. “I understand you’re looking for a little girl?”

“Yes, we always wanted two children, but with our little Stephen’s ailments, we thought it best to not risk it with another natural child,” Joseph said, resting his hand over his wife’s.

Before anyone could say another word, shouting outside drew their attention, and all three ran out to see what the commotion was. Sarah found Steve on the ground with a bloody lip and immediately took him into her arms.

“Brock started it!” Bucky shouted as Coulson broke them up.

“I’m ok, Ma,” the boy assured her. “Sir, he was only helping me when the big one hit me.”

“Sister Maria, could you please escort Brock to the kitchens.” She nodded curtly and led the boy away. “You must be Stephen. This is Bucky,” he introduced the two, too relieved to hear the latter speak to pass up the opportunity. “Why don’t you show him around while I finish speaking to Mr. and Mrs. Rogers?”

Back at the office, they ended up inquiring about Bucky before asking about the girls. When they left, they listened as Steve went on and on about how great Bucky was, and even gave him his art supplies as he didn’t draw anymore. A few days later when they returned, Steve brought a folder full of drawings to show his new friend, and his parents watched as he excitedly ran toward the other boy.

“I thought you really wanted a girl?” Joseph asked, seeing the twinkle in Sarah’s eye.

“More than anything, I want a friend for Steve.” She smiled at her husband, and he pulled her into a hug.

“Alright,” he grinned as he led her to the doors. “Let’s go in and get our boy.”

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time skip guys! We see a little bit of what’s become of Bucks and dear Reader.

Natasha was determined to make this the best birthday ever; the one that finally brought her fiancée out of his annual funk.

She’d noticed Bucky’s strange behavior since they’d met, but she never knew how serious it was until they’d moved in together. She always figured he was busy the weeks surrounding it, but now she knew better. Now she knew he’d lock himself in his study, poring over whatever Steve gave him. Every. Year. Then he would emerge, looking exhausted, but otherwise acting as if nothing had happened. He was the man she fell in love with again, and her worries were pushed to the back of her mind until his next birthday approached.

All traces of whatever Steve gave him were gone as well. Locked in the safe he kept, she figured; the one thing she wasn’t granted access to. When she asked him, he avoided the question, only saying it was nothing. When she asked Steve, he’d replied it had to do with before he joined their family, and nothing for her to concern herself with. Peggy, Steve’s wife and her future sister-in-law, was as much in the dark as she was. Sam straight refused to say anything on the matter, only warning her to leave it alone. When she became desperate enough to seek Father Coulson, he’d only smiled and advised her to speak to Bucky about it.

The only clue she had to his past was a name: Y/N. A storm came in the night while Bucky was sleeping and she was looking over a deposition for an upcoming case. She knew he hated them, but when he’d bolted up after a loud crack of thunder and screamed Y/N’s name, something hard formed in the pit of her stomach. When again he didn’t allow her to comfort him, she grilled him about her, but was satisfied when he said he knew her from his days at the orphanage, and he didn’t keep in touch. She was the best lawyer in New York, and she was sure he’d told the truth.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You were finishing up a journal entry, sticking the final picture to the page when there was a knocking on the wall of your hut.

“Honey, it’s me,” Pepper called.

“Come in.”

Tony and Pepper always kept a journal and took countless photos, so it was no surprise you’d picked up the habit not long after they gifted you your own journal and camera. They had pitched the idea to the magazine to publish your own articles, providing a child’s perspective of the world. The editor readily agreed, much to your parents’ pleasure. They hadn’t counted on your refusal to give up your journal, however, and they respected your decision in the end and took whatever you were willing to give them.

“Hey,” she greeted softly with a smile. “Ready to head into town?”

“Yeah,” your voice cracked. “Just a sec.” Under the last photo you wrote,  _ **‘Happy Birthday, James.’**_

You closed the book and grabbed your backpack, following her out where Tony was already waiting in a car. In town, the first stop was the post office. Tony gave you the usual envelope and small box, and you gave him your articles. While he and Pepper tended to their business, you carefully packed your journal and addressed it to James at Winchester’s. You had no idea if he was even getting them anymore, but you hoped that someone knew of his whereabouts and forwarded them to him.

“Why hasn’t she gone back?” Tony asked in a low whisper.

“She’s scared,” Pepper replied sadly. “I would be, too. It’s been so long.”

Over the years, they talked about your situation at great length. In all honesty, they expected you to take off as soon as you turned eighteen; back to the boy you left behind. When you didn’t, they grew concerned, but tried to never show it. They knew you weren’t over him since no other guy ever held your interest for long, and every February you’d send him the journal you’d spent the previous year filling to make sure he got it in time for his birthday.

There was only one boy they thought came close; a young prince in Wakanda. You’d met as children, and while you weren’t exactly happy, it was a vast improvement to your usual gloom. They were a little disappointed when you didn’t write him after you left, but they knew they couldn’t expect a weeks old friendship to compare to the bond you shared with James. Still, when you met again at a gala at sixteen, they noticed the two of you picked up right where you left off and couldn’t help but get their hopes up. Again, nothing came of it, and you parted ways with no indication for the possibility of future contact. At twenty, you returned to pay your respects for his father’s passing. Your parents wondered if this was where you’d say goodbye, having grown close enough to the prince to spend all your time together, sharing kisses under clear, starry skies. On the night before they were to leave, you were there with your pack and stuffed wolf, looking guilty and eager to go.

When you finished at the post office, you went to the local shops to find new journals and replenish your film stores before having dinner. Then, you found a motel to spend the next few days while Tony and Pepper planned where you’d be headed off to next.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

She couldn’t believe how careless she’d been. A stupid mistake that may have just ruined the entire trip.

Natasha did everything to make sure Bucky’s mind was occupied: she begged Steve to hold off on giving him his annual package until their return, she made certain the weather would be sunny during their stay, and she searched endlessly for a destination that wouldn’t make him wince at its mention.

He’d been ecstatic by her surprise, and things were perfect for the first three days. The trip was planned for ten, and she managed to screw up on the third.

The day began beautifully with a lazy morning, dozing in and out of a cuddly sleep until brunch. Then they went for a walk around the village, doing some light shopping and sampling some street food before returning to their hotel for a nap. While he slept, she set up a beautiful dinner on their room’s balcony. They spoke for hours and well after sunset, and a few bottles of wine, headed to bed.

Natasha loved Bucky, but it always seemed like he was holding something back. Tonight was different, though. Tonight, there was nothing but the two of them, and she felt like she finally broke through. Like she’d finally been able to help him move forward from whatever plagued his past. It was the most raw and uninhibited he’d ever been, and it was enough to cause her momentary lapse.

“James,” she breathed softly as his lips brushed her neck. Bucky went rigid, freezing his movements before sucking in air. “Whats wrong?”

Bucky pulled away and looked down at her with clouded eyes. “Nothing, I just…need to go to the restroom.”

“Are you alright?” she called, concerned at the sudden change.

He didn’t respond, practically running away from her. It was then she realized she’d called him ‘James’, and she felt all color drain from her face.

No one, not his own parents, not even Steve were allowed to call him by his first name. She understood his need to reserve something for his birth parents, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t hurt to have him react that way. After all, she was going to be his wife.

Bucky emerged from the bathroom, and rather than get back in bed, he reached for his boxers and slipped them on.

“Buck, I’m sorry, it just slipped out. Please come back to bed.”

For the second time that night, he froze, but quickly recovered. When he faced her, she could see a storm of emotions fighting to break free, but when he kissed her lips, there was nothing behind it.

“You go to sleep, Tash. I just need some air and I’ll be right in.”

She watched him walk out to where they’d had their lovely dinner and grip the rail as if it were the only thing keeping him up. Unable to watch, she turned her back and settled into bed, waiting for him to come back as promised. Figuring he thought she was sleeping, she heard his sniffles progress into soft cries. She wanted nothing more than to hold him and make him smile again, but as before, she knew he would refuse.

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat gets some help from her friends to get some answers.

Steve’s smile fell as soon as he spotted Natasha and Bucky coming from the baggage claim. Bucky’s happy expression was strained, obviously forced for Nat’s sake as he took her bag, her own faltering as soon as he turned from her.

“Hey guys,” he called warily, waving his arm to catch their attention.

“Stevie,” Bucky dropped his bag and pulled him into a quick hug. “How’s everything?”

“Fine. Hi Nat.” He gave her a hug as well, picking Bucky’s bag up when they separated. “How was your trip?” He didn’t really want to ask, but it would have made things even more awkward if he hadn’t.

“The architecture was beautiful,” Bucky offered. He had tried to not let Nat’s slipup ruin the trip she’d worked so hard to surprise him with, but he was well aware of his failure when her own mood didn’t improve during the remainder of their stay.

“Food was delicious,” she added with an equally forced smile. She appreciated Bucky trying to make the best of their vacation, but the damage had been done and it was like she was back at square one with him.

Steve nodded, not pressing the issue anymore. When they arrived at his car, they put the luggage in the trunk and and climbed inside.

“Do you guys want to go out to dinner tonight? Sam’s bringing a date.”

Natasha was about to say yes, but Bucky spoke before she could.

“Nah, I just want to head home,” he sighed. “Did, um… did anything come for me?”

Steve’s eyes quickly flicked toward Natasha, who pursed her lips and turned to stare out the window. “Yeah. I left it on the top shelf of your safe.”

The rest of drive was silent, and Steve was relieved when he finally dropped them off at home. He rushed back to his own house, the same one he and Bucky grew up in, to spend time with Peggy before they headed out to dinner, knowing that for the next few weeks all her time would be dedicated to comforting Nat over her failed plan.

Soft music greeted him when he stepped through the front door, the faintest hint of his wife’s perfume lingering in the air. He slowly made his way to their bedroom and found her in front of her vanity, humming along to the tune as she applied her makeup. He watched her from the door silently, not wanting to interrupt.

“Your suit’s laid out for you,” she purred, turning to him with a smile. “How did it go?”

Steve slightly cringed, but knowing she saw it anyway, he sat on the bed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “You should probably go see Nat tomorrow. It didn’t look good.”

“Oh no. I suppose they won’t be joining us, then?”

“No, Buck just wanted to go home.”

“Steve?” she paused, setting her brush down. “Is it really necessary for him to receive the parcel from the orphanage?”

He didn’t even take a moment to consider it. “Yes.”

“Why?” she persisted. “All it does is upset him, both of them, so why not maybe next year, just throw it out and say it didn’t come?”

“Because that would be a federal offense?” he joked, not wanting to have the conversation yet again.

“I’m serious.”

“Peg,” he rubbed his cheek, averting his eyes from her determined ones. “I can’t. Believe me, it would only make things worse.”

“How?”

“It just would. I wish I could help them, I do, but that’s not the way.”

“Maybe if you told me what was going on, I could help you think of something.” She knew she was toeing boundaries bringing it up, but it would be worth it if it helped her friend.

Steve stood abruptly, quickly heading to the dresser to grab some undergarments. He paused on his way to the bathroom, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “I’m going to shower.”

Peggy watched him go, annoyed at his dismissal. She respected their privacy, but she found herself between a rock and a hard place, year after year, when Natasha would call her, upset about Bucky’s sudden detachment.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

They were stood in Bucky’s study, flanking the safe. Once he’d emerged, he took Natasha out for a night on the town, and now he’d gone fishing with Steve and Sam.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Wanda asked warily.

“Not really, but I can’t help him if I don’t know what’s bothering him.”

“Steve’s no help,” Peggy chimed in. “And Sam’s even more tight lipped when he’s drunk.” She shrugged at the appalled look Wanda shot her. “It was worth a try.”

Wanda eyed the safe, looking for wires or anything to indicate there were any safeguards in place. “There’s no alarm or anything hooked to it?”

“No. Whatever’s inside must not have any real value. Ok, let’s start with birthdays.”

Natasha punched in the code for all the birthdays she knew, including the pet goldfish he and Steve had growing up, none of them opening the door.

“What if it’s not a birthday,” Wanda whispered sadly. “What if it’s a day one of his parents died?”

“I don’t know them.”

“I do,” Peggy said. “He said once, years ago. I think I remember.”

Natasha stood aside, letting Peggy enter the dates, reciting them for Nat’s benefit. Neither of the dates worked.

“Alright,” Nat huffed. “What about the day he was adopted?” Nothing. “The day he met Steve?” Nope. “The day he met me?”

“No,” Peggy frowned. Without saying anything, she entered another date, making her sigh in annoyance when it didn’t work.

“What was that?” Wanda asked.

“Probably nothing, but I remember he was particularly moody one day around the time I first met him and Steve. I found it a bit amusing when it happened again a year later. Enough to remember the date, apparently.”

It triggered something in Natasha’s memory, and she approached the safe again. “I think I have one, too.” She held her breath as she punched the numbers in. When the safe beeped, Wanda cheered and Peggy placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“We’ll leave you to it, then,” she said before Nat reached for the handle.

Wanda gave her a quick hug, wishing her luck before following Peggy out of the house.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“I’m home!” Bucky called as he walked through the door. “Nat? You here?”

He checked the front rooms, wondering if she’d gone out with the girls. Passing his study on the way to the bedroom, he noticed the door was ajar and pushed it open, revealing Nat sitting stoically at his desk with a book in front of her.

“‘My Dearest James,’” Bucky froze at hearing her husky voice. “‘There’s a storm tonight. Though I’m no longer afraid, I still can’t sleep through them without your arms wrapped around me, and you whispering words of comfort in my ear. I always miss you terribly, but on nights like this, it’s almost unbearable.’”

“Tash,” he groaned, “what’re ya doin’?”

“You told me you weren’t in touch with her,” she accused.

“I’m not. I mean, I have no way of contacting her. Not since she left.”

“But she knows how to contact you?”

“She sends them to the orphanage, they forward it to Steve’s. Why did you break into my safe?”

“You wouldn’t talk to me!” she snapped. “She wasn’t just a friend, was she?” Bucky’s silence was all the answer she needed. “If I asked you to get rid of them, would you?”

“You’d never ask it of me.”

“No, I wouldn’t. But if I did? Could you do it?”

Unable to meet her eyes, he whispered, “No.”

“The combination,” she continued. “What’s the significance?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, wishing he could choke on the words. “It’s the last time I saw her; the day she left.”

Natasha shook her head, chuckling dryly. “I thought you didn’t like being called ‘James’ because it’s what your parents called you. But it was her, wasn’t it?” She bit her lip when Bucky only looked at her with a pained expression.“Why did you keep this from me? Why won’t you let me help you through this?” She sighed, frustrated when he didn’t answer. “Ok, had you been able to write back, what would you have said? If she were to show up at our door right now, what would happen?”

“Please, stop,” he begged. Bucky had long since lost hope that you’d show up. Since your 18th birthday he waited, praying that one day he’d open the door and you’d be there, ready to take your place by his side. Every day that passed his heart cracked a little more, and after years, he had eventually stopped praying. That was when he met Natasha; his second chance at love.

“Why dwell on this? Do you still love her?” she asked, eyes beginning to fill with tears.

Bucky didn’t know what to reply to that. In a way, yes, he did, but he chalked it up to first love. After all, “they say you never forget your first, right?”

“Is that all?” her tone grew lighter. “It doesn’t go beyond that?”

The truth was, he didn’t know. Had she asked a couple of years earlier, he’d have said it didn’t, but as their wedding approached, his doubts began to increase. “It was a long time ago, Tash. It was hard to make heads or tails of anything when everything’s one-sided.”

She considered his response for a moment, turning her attention back to the book in her hands. “Maybe this’ll help you.” She delicately cleared her throat before she continued reading. “‘As the clouds began to pass, the sky took on a hue that brought me to tears. It was the color of your eyes, James. I was reminded of the day Father Coulson took us to the beach, and we wandered to that cave by the cliffside where we thought we found mermaid scales. Do you remember? I still have the ones that match your eyes, and I found myself wondering if you kept the ones that match mine.’ Bucky, she’s still in love with you.”

He had thought so, too. He desperately wanted to believe it, but your absence shattered any hope he had in a future with you. While he didn’t think he could ever let you go completely, he had moved on and found someone else he could be happy with. “I love  _you_. I’m  _marrying_   _you_.”

She was still upset, but she was relieved she finally had some answers. “So, are we going to be ok, then?”

“You tell me.”

“I think we should postpone the wedding for now,” she said, approaching him slowly. “But we can get through this, if you want. I know we can.” She took his hands in hers, watching him carefully. “Do you still want this?”

“Yeah,” he croaked. “Yeah I do.”

* * *

 


End file.
